


Spooky Boys' Night: A Felony Steve Origin Story

by The_Best_Damn_Dress_I_Own



Category: Waterparks (Band)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-10
Updated: 2018-12-10
Packaged: 2019-09-15 19:27:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16939296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Best_Damn_Dress_I_Own/pseuds/The_Best_Damn_Dress_I_Own
Summary: Interestingly enough, when Awsten’s intuition proved him right, it wasn’t Elijah’s terrifying dolls and haunted rings that bit him in the ass (and thankfully it wasn’t one of the snakes, either). It was actually just a joke. Or at least it was supposed to be.





	Spooky Boys' Night: A Felony Steve Origin Story

If Awsten was being completely honest, sometimes Elijah Daniel scared him. A little bit. In the back of his mind. Or maybe the front. And maybe kind of a lot. He liked him a lot too, but there was something about Elijah’s reckless approach to the supernatural that made even the often-careless Awsten take a step back. Ok, and the snakes. The snakes were pretty scary. He never let it stop him from having a great time at their “spooky boys’ nights,” but maybe it made his chest feel a little funny while they experimented. 

Interestingly enough, when Awsten’s intuition proved him right, it wasn’t Elijah’s terrifying dolls and haunted rings that bit him in the ass (and thankfully it wasn’t one of the snakes, either). It was actually just a joke. Or at least it was supposed to be. 

It was the day before Waterparks were due to begin their biggest U.S. tour. The first night was L.A. so Awsten was home, thrilled to enjoy some extra time in his own space and, more importantly, an extra night in his own bed. Geoff, Otto, Jawn, and Lucas had arrived earlier that week, but they were off doing their own things when Awsten got a text from Elijah:

DUDE. I know you’re probably busy with tour shit but I got some fucking WILD witchcraft stuff that we’ve gotta try

Awsten was sold. He texted back immediately:

Gimme an hour

Elijah, Sam, and Nick were all waiting in front of the house when Awsten pulled up. It was just barely getting dark and the cloudless sky had only the faintest tinges of sunset hues. 

“That was wayyy longer than an hour,” Elijah complained, practically pushing Awsten through the door. “We were almost worried.”

“Traffic, man,” Awsten explained. “But it wouldn’t have been like, a HUGE deal if I died on the way here. Y’all could’ve just gotten out the fucking hundred year-old Oujia board and hit me up.”

“Dude, doesn't your fucking tour literally start tomorrow?” Sam reminded him.

“Okay,” Awsten acknowledged, “but I mean like, for this specific situation it wouldn’t have mattered that much. In general, I’m not nearly rich enough to die yet.”

The others had taken the liberty of setting everything up while they were waiting, but the table didn’t really look any different than usual. 

“So what’d you get?” Awsten urged.

Elijah grabbed a softened cardboard box off a shelf. “This.”

“Garbage?” Awsten asked, just to be a dick.

Elijah rolled his eyes. “Cute,” he replied sarcastically, “but wrong. We can try garbage spells when you get back. Those definitely exist somewhere.”

“We’ll look it up,” Nick added.

Awsten opened the box and examined what was inside. There were corked jars full of God-knows-what, a pendant on a heavy chain, a well-used black candle, and, taking up most of the box, a worn, heavy book with a gilded title so chipped that it was illegible.

“Tiiight,” Awsten whispered. 

“Postmates will bring you anything,” Elijah replied nonchalantly. 

“So what does this stuff do?” Awsten pressed.

“Supposedly like bunch of different things.” Elijah lifted the book out of the box and then quickly dropped it. “Holy shit.”

“What?” Awsten gasped, eyes wide.

“Dude, you’ve gotta feel this.” Elijah was still smiling, but there was a noticeable shaking in his voice.

Hesitantly, Awsten put his hand on the book and his whole arm tingled with a pins-and-needles-like sensation. This was gonna be so good.

Once they had taken their seats, Elijah emptied the box, grabbing the book last with a grimace of effort. 

Nick set the black candle down in front of himself. “Tell me when you’re ready to start and I’ll light it.”

Elijah nodded and gave everyone a jar. He opened the book and the room went cold.

“Fuuuuuuuuhck,” Awsten groaned, his baggy sweater suddenly useless.

Gingerly, Elijah flipped through the pages, scanning for something worth trying. “Hmmm…nope...maybe…nah.”

Awsten, Sam, and Nick all watched him expectantly until he looked up with a grin. “Perfect,” he declared, locking eyes with Awsten. “Spell for harnessing musical energy.”

“I’m listening,” Awsten prompted him.

“Purpose: to assist the subject in tapping into music's inherent spiritual power. An ability that will aid in creativity, success, wealth, and future magical endeavors.”

“Nice,” Awsten breathed. “Light the candle.”

Nick pulled out his lighter and brought the flame to the already-charred wick. The second contact was made, a long, thin flame shot straight up from the candle.

Elijah draped the pendant around Awsten’s neck. “We’re gonna make you the sickest fucking SoundCloud rapper, dude.”

“Shh,” Nick hissed. “We already started the spell.”

“Nah SoundCloud might be the starting point,” Awsten practically giggled to Elijah, “but there’s no way it’ll contain me once I start laying down bars.”

“Guys,” Nick scolded as the room suddenly darkened. 

“What just happened?” Sam questioned worriedly.

“Yo, the sky is fucking BLACK,” Elijah realized, looking out the window. 

“You motherfuckers,” Sam laughed anxiously. “If you don’t take this seriously then it’s gonna be your fault if we get fucking struck by lightning.”

“Ok, ok,” Awsten conceded. “Let’s actually start the spell now.”

 

 

Geoff and Otto had never seen Awsten so jittery before. Their lead singer was usually all about being alone and calming down before a set, but this time he was completely nuts: running up and down the halls backstage (much to the annoyance of the venue’s staff) and shouting things like “Yoooo let’s fucking DO THIS!” every few minutes. He'd also been practically impossible to deal with during soundcheck because he kept changing his mind about the mixes, mostly alternating between wanting the backing tracks way up (wrong) and the drums way up (also wrong). Eventually, he gave up altogether and went back to the greenroom, leaving his bandmates to fix his weird adjustments as politely as possible. Everyone was concerned, but since it was the first night and there was a lot to focus on, they seemed to make an unspoken agreement to deal with him later. 

Unfortunately, "later" was too late.

The band took the stage to uproarious applause, and Awsten ran to his microphone and froze, face going blank. It took the audience a moment to notice, but soon the room went quiet. Geoff and Otto looked at each other worriedly before shrugging and beginning the first song. 

As the music started, Awsten seemed to come alive again, but before his bandmates could feel relieved, he removed his guitar and dropped it, causing a screech of feedback until Lucas ran onstage and switched off Awsten's amps, visibly confused. 

Awsten was unfazed. "LOS ANGELES," he bellowed, then paused again. "Yo can I get some autotune on this mic?" he called to the engineers. After he was satisfied, he addressed the crowd again. "Yo what is UP L.A. it's ya boy Felony Steve here to bless your ears with my sweet, sweet rhymes."

The fans laughed, used to Awsten's eccentricities and therefore unaware that he wasn't joking. 

He turned to Geoff and Otto. "Why'd you stop playing?" His eyes had gone fully black. 

Terrified and not knowing what else to do, they started the song again and Awsten grabbed the mic off the stand. What came out of his mouth was not Waterparks. It was barely even human. It just was a rapid, guttural mumbling that occasionally resembled English. 

No one knew how to react. Geoff and Otto, both at a loss, played the whole set, hoping he'd snap out of it. 

He didn't. 

Near the end, Geoff looked towards side-stage. Elijah Daniel was stood amongst their friends, his face a mix of horror and amusement. They made eye contact and that was all the explanation Geoff needed. 

"Those two dickheads better be able to fix this," he grumbled to himself.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sure I'll regret writing this instead of studying for my finals, but what's done is done.


End file.
